OBJECTION!: The First Turnabout
by Jopeth23
Summary: Crossover with "Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney". Arnold Shortman is a rookie lawyer fresh from the law school. His first taste of action is a case involving his best friend, Gerald Johannsen, who was accused of the murder of his ex-girlfriend, Phoebe Heyerdahl. All evidences and witness testimonies points to Gerald being the murderer. Can Arnold prove his best friend's innocence?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!, its characters and settings, as well as Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, its concept and silly plot.**

**Prologue**

"_Dammit, why me?!"_

He gasped as he held the heavy bronze miniature replica of Rodin's "The Thinker", its head smeared with blood, dripping on the floor. In front of him was a young petite Asian woman, sprawling on the floor, face down. Beside her body was her pair of glasses, shattered, its thick plastic frame cracked. He trembled at the sight.

"_I-I can't get caught! Not like this!"_

His grip on the heavy statuette loosened, until he unconsciously dropped it on the floor. A pool of blood began to form around the woman's head, spreading wider until it almost reached his shoe.

"_I-I've gotta find someone to pin this on..."_

He racked his brains for his next move. Any minute from now, the police would come and he needed a quick excuse to escape from this sticky situation. Then suddenly, the image of an African-American man with a tall hair that he saw earlier flashed in his head. A sly, evil grin formed in his lips. He now knew what to do.

"_Yeah, that's it...I'll pin this to someone...someone like him...I'll make it look like he did it!"_

He could not help but to snicker maniacally at his seemingly evil yet genius plan as the sound police sirens approached the apartment building he was in at the moment.

**A/N: Yeah, I know, this is an awful rip-off of "Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney". I'm not sorry for it. So leave reviews please. ^^,**


	2. Chapter 1: The Murder Motive

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!, its characters and settings, as well as Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, its concept and silly plot.**

**Chapter 1: The Murder Motive**

_August 3, 9:47 AM, Hillwood District Court_

"_Boy, am I nervous!" _Arnold thought as he paced back and forth across the defendant's lobby. Today was the first day of his _very first_ trial. Not only that this was a big day for his career as a defence lawyer, his best friend's future was at stake here. He would be defending no less than Gerald Johannsen, who was accused of murdering his ex-girlfriend and childhood friend, Phoebe Heyerdahl. Arnold knew Gerald since preschool. He may have occasionally run into trouble, but he would never ever hurt a fly, let alone his ex-girlfriend. He knew how much Gerald have loved Phoebe, even though they had an ugly breakup recently. With all honesty, there was _no way_ Gerald could have committed the murder.

And that is what he needs to prove in the courtroom.

"Arnold Shortman," a familiar feminine voice called from behind him.

He turned to see a middle-aged blonde lady wearing a black dress and a silk brown scarf tied around her neck. She smiled lightly at him, seeing him all nervous and uneasy on his first defence. Arnold fixed his bright pink tie and straightened blue coat, and smiled back at his mentor and boss, the famed defence lawyer and senior partner of the Pataki and Co. Law Offices, Olga Pataki.

"Oh...h-hiya, Boss," he greeted her nervously.

"Whew, I'm glad I made it on time," she sighed as she sat on a couch, crossing her legs. Arnold looked uneasily at his boss. He knew she was a very busy person, but she made it a point to attend on his very first trial.

"So this is it, Arnold. Your baptism of fire," she said to him, who was still fidgeting at his place, trying to contain his nervousness.

"I-I haven't been this nervous since we did m-mock trials back in the law school," he stammered, smiling awkwardly at her.

"Well, it's about time we pop your cherry. You won't be a good defence attorney if you won't be in the line of fire," she said in an assuring tone.

"Yeah...I guess you're right..." he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Besides, you need to get to the swing of things."

"Huh?" Arnold gave him a puzzled look.

"I'm referring to the 'bench trial system'. It had been recently adopted by the Hillwood trial courts. With me who got used to the old system, I find it harder for us defence lawyers to win a case. But don't worry. I know you're an ace. You'll get used to it pretty soon and start winning your cases," she said.

"I hope so," Arnold sighed. Arnold knew that with the changes in the judicial procedures, it would be a real challenge for him to clear the charges against Gerald. With the "bench trial system", the judge was the one who gives the verdict after the prosecution and the defence presents their evidences and witnesses, instead of a jury. With the number of cases being received by the courts increased fivefold for the past few years, the judiciary decided to give three days of trial for each case. Within three days, if the defence could not produce evidence or testimonies that would refute the prosecution's charges, it would be an automatic "Guilty" verdict.

Arnold knew this well, and he prepared himself for the next three stormy days to come.

"You know Boss, I'm so sorry you have to come all the way here on my account," he said sheepishly.

"Well, I have to say Arnold, I'm impressed," she said. "Not everybody takes a murder trial right off the bat like this. It says about you...and your client as well."

"Um...thanks," he smiled at is boss' compliment. "Actually, I'm doing it pro-bono because I owe him a favor."

"A favor? So you knew the defendant before this case?" Olga asked.

Arnold nodded, "Yes, we went in the same elementary school, in PS 118. Don't you remember? Your sister Helga was our classmate back then. You even became our practice teacher for a few weeks before you moved to Alaska."

"Oh yeah, I remember. That was before I decided to go to the law school. How could I be so forgetful? Silly me," she laughed softly.

"It's okay Boss," Arnold smiled, and then dug his hands into his pocket. "He's my best friend, and we kind of looked after each other since then. I want to help him out in any way that I can..."

"It's over!"

Olga and Arnold turned to the direction where the voice of a man wailing had came from.

"My life, everything, it's all over!"

Arnold saw an African-American man with a tall hairdo being escorted by two uniformed police officers screaming like crazy entering the defendant's lobby. Arnold shook his head and sighed.

"Isn't that your client screaming over there?" Olga asked.

"Yeah, that's him," Arnold sighed, embarrassed. He knew Gerald was a cool and smooth guy, and he rarely lost his composure. But since his arrest for the murder of Phoebe, he had been panicky and overly emotional. Who could blame him? He loved the girl so much.

"Death! Despair! Ohhh!" Gerald continued wailing. "I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna die!"

"Looks like he had lost it, Arnold. Try to calm him down. He can't be like this once the hearing starts," Olga told him.

"Alright, Boss," he then went over to Gerald, who was now on his knees on the floor, weeping loudly. His escorts were trying to help him up, but it's no use.

"Gerald?" Arnold said. "Gerald, calm down."

"Arnold?" Gerald said, getting back on his feet, calming down a bit. "Dude, tell them I'm guilty! I'm so guilty!"

"W-wha-...?" he looked at Gerald in disbelief. "No! Why should I do that?! I'm your lawyer. I should be telling them and proving otherwise..."

"Gimme the death sentence! I'm not afraid to die!" Gerald rambled on.

"Gerald..." Arnold grumbled, starting to get annoyed by his antics.

"Who took her away from me, Arnold?! Who did this?!" he wailed at Arnold. "Aw, Arnold, you gotta tell me! Who took my Phoebe away?!"

"_Ummm, the guy who responsible for Phoebe's murder?" _Arnold was tempted answer back sarcastically.

"The papers say it was _you_," Arnold replied matter-of-factly. "But we all know that you _did not_ do it. And that's what we're gonna prove in the courtroom. Gerald, I need you to calm down, okay? It's not gonna help your case if you're all too riled up like that."

Gerald nodded obediently, "Okay. I trust you with this, buddy."

"I swear, we're gonna clear your name, and we're gonna find out who really killed Phoebe," Arnold assured Gerald.

"Arnold, it's time," Olga called Arnold. He looked at his watch. 10:00 AM. The hearing is about to begin. He picked up his briefcase, then tapped Gerald on his shoulder.

"Let's head to the courtroom," he said. Gerald nodded. The three then headed out of the defendant's lobby, and made their way to the courtroom.

"_This is it...it's show time."_

**-=OBJECTION!=- -=OBJECTION!=- -=OBJECTION!=- **

"The court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Gerald Johannsen," the elderly judge with a bushy moustache and beard boomed before rapping his gavel.

"The prosecution is now ready, your Honor," an old balding man with gray wispy hair who sat on the opposite side of the courtroom. Arnold recognized him. He's Winston Payne, a prominent prosecutor known as the "rookie killer". He was known for going against rookie defence lawyers such as him, and destroying them in the courtroom once they show any hint of weakness. Many of the rookie lawyers who went against him quit their law careers after they got demolished in the courtroom by him, effectively destroying their defence and getting a "Guilty" verdict.

"_Of all the prosecutors in Hillwood City I would go against, why him?" _Arnold gulped as he looked at him across the room on the prosecution box.

"The defense...ummm...is ready, y-your Honor," Arnold stammered. His hands are all cold and sweaty. In front of him are stacks of documents relevant to the case, such as the police report, coroner's report, photographs, etc.

"Atty. Shortman? This is your first trial, is it not?" the judge asked him.

"Y-yes, your Honor. I'm, um, a little nervous," he replied, his voice a bit shaky.

"I understand that, and we all been through that. But you have to understand that this is a real trial now, and your conduct will decide your client's fate. I hope you control your nerves. Don't expect to get a special treatment just because you're a rookie," the judge reminded Arnold sternly.

"U-understood, your Honor," he acknowledged.

"_Way to go, judge. You're a real big help," _Arnold thought as he sighed, occupying himself by arranging the documents he will need to defend Gerald.

"The prosecution may now call its first witness," the judge said to Payne.

"The prosecution calls the defendant, Mr. Johannsen, to the stand," Payne said. The eyes of those present in the courtroom followed Gerald as he stood up from the defendant's box and headed to the witness' stand. He was accosted by the court clerk, who administered the oath before he made his way to the witness stand where he sat, looking all too sullen.

"State your name and occupation for the court records, Mr. Johannsen," Payne said to him.

"Gerald Johannsen, sir," Gerald answered flatly, still looking too sullen.

"And your occupation?"

"I-I'm an...artist..."

"An artist?" Payne repeated. "Would you care explain to the court what kind of artist are you?"

"I make...stuff. You know, artsy stuff..."

Arnold facepalmed upon hearing this, cringing at Gerald's lack of eloquence at this point. He always knew Gerald to be a smooth talker, but this case has shook him so bad that he lost his talent for talking his way out of this sticky situation.

"Could you be more...specific, Mr. Johanssen?" Payne asked.

"I make sculptures, figurines, clockworks, and I occasionally draw and paint too," Gerald replied.

"Very well then," Payne said, nodding. He adjusted his square-framed glasses as he leafed through documents in front of him.

"Mr. Johannsen, is it not true that the victim, Ms. Phoebe Heyerdahl, _was _your girlfriend?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Gerald answered softly.

"And you have known her since...?"

"Since grade school, sir."

"I see," Payne nodded knowingly. "You must have loved her so much, don't you?"

Gerald sighed and nodded, "Yes..."

"Is it not true as well that she recently dumped you?" Payne asked sharply.

Gerald was suddenly roused and flashed a glare to Payne, "Hey, watch it, buddy! We were great together! We were Romeo and Juliet! Cleopatra and Mark Anthony!"

Arnold's let his head fall on his desk, cringing on how Gerald was handling the questioning. _"Way to go, Gerald. Didn't all of them die in the end?" _he thought.

"I wasn't dumped! She wasn't taking my phone calls. Or seeing me..._ever_," Gerald snapped back. "What is it to you anyway!?"

"Mr. Johannsen, what you have just described is generally what we mean by _'dumped'_," Payne shot back. "In fact, she had completely abandoned you...and was seeing other men!"

Gerald shook his head, "No, that's not true..."

"You are aware that Ms. Heyerdahl works as part-time model, are you not?"

Gerald nodded.

"You are aware that as a model, she is being admired by many men, most of them rich and powerful, and it would be no wonder if she will be dating one of them..."

"**OBJECTION!"**

Everybody turned to the direction of the defendant's box, where Arnold was standing up, pointing at Winston Payne.

"Your Honor, the prosecution's questions are irrelevant to the case," Arnold stated.

"Your Honor, Ms. Heyerdahl's background is necessary in establishing the motive for the murder," Payne replied.

"Objection sustained," the judge said. "Atty. Payne, please avoid beating around the bush and get to the point."

"Yes, your Honor," he nodded.

"Nice start, Arnold," Olga, who was sitting with Arnold in the defendant's box, whispered to him. "Keep it up, and you may win this case."

"Thanks Boss," Arnold whispered back, smiling.

"Alright," Payne said after adjusting his tie. "Before the murder, Ms. Heyerdahl returned from overseas with one of...ahem, older rich men she was seeing..."

"W-whatdya mean 'one of older rich men?!" Gerald interjected. "Lies! All of it, lies! I don't believe a word of it!"

"Your Honor, I present the victim's passport," Payne continued, ignoring Gerald. "According to this, she was in Paris until the day before she died."

He then presents to the judge the passport wrapped inside a zip lock plastic bag. The judge then took the bag, opened it, and took a look at the passport.

"The court accepts the passport as evidence," the judge acknowledged, nodding. "Indeed, she appears to have returned the day before the murder."

"Dude, no way..." Gerald said in disbelief.

"The victim was a part-time model, but did not have a large income," Payne continued. "It appears she has several 'sugar daddies'."

"Daddies...? Sugar...?" Gerald mumbled dumbly.

"Yes, older men who gives her gifts and money," Payne replied to Gerald. "She took their money and used it to support her lifestyle."

"No way..."

"We can clearly see what kind of woman this Ms. Heyerdahl was," he went on, keeping an eye on Gerald. "Tell me, Mr. Johannsen, what do you think of her now?"

"Arnold, I don't think Gerald should answer that question," Olga whispered to Arnold.

"_Yeah, and Gerald might be digging his own grave if he answered that question the wrong way," _Arnold thought.

"**OBJECTION!"**

Arnold banged his hands against the desk, "Your Honor, my client has no idea that the victim was seeing other men." He then pointed his finger to Payne. "The question is irrelevant to the case."

"Oof!" Payne exclaimed, wincing a bit.

"Dude! Arnold! Whatdya mean 'irrelevant'?!" Gerald interjected before the judge could even give his ruling. "That cheatin' she-dog! I'm gonna die! I'm just gonna drop dead! And when I meet her in the afterlife, I'll get to the bottom of this!"

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

"Order! Order in the court!" the judge boomed, rapping his gavel. "Mr. Johanssen, your antics won't be tolerated in this courtroom. One more time, and I will hold you for contempt. As for you, Atty. Shortman, your objection is sustained. Atty. Payne, please refrain from personal question, and stick to the one relevant to the case."

"Yes, your Honor," Payne replied, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "As you can see, the defendant's motive is clear to everyone."

"_Oh boy, not looking good for Gerald," _Arnold thought, looking at Gerald who is now seething at the thought of Phoebe cheating on him.

"Mr. Johannsen, you went to the victim's apartment on the day of the murder, did you not?" Payne asked Gerald.

Gerald was startled, and gulped hard, not answering his question.

"Well, did you, or did you not?" the prosecutor pressed on.

"Heh...hehe...well, maybe I did, and maybe I didn't," Gerald replied with a smug smile.

Arnold facepalmed, _"Dammit Gerald, why are you making things hard for me. What would I do now?"_

"Um, well, see, it's like this: I don't remember," Gerald went on.

"You 'don't remember'?" Payne repeated, giving him an incredulous look. "Well then, we just have to remind you!"

"_I got a bad feeling about this..."_ Arnold thought, uneasy on what the prosecution is about to unravel.

"Your Honor, we have a witness that can prove he _did_ go to the victim's apartment that day!"

"Well, that simplifies matters," the judged nodded. "Atty. Payne, who is your witness?"

"The man who found the victim's body," he replied. "Just before he made the gruesome discovery, he saw the defendant fleeing from the scene of the crime!"

There was a buzz among those who were present in the courtroom, whispering to each other.

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

"Order! Order in the court!" the judge boomed after rapping his gavel. "Atty. Payne, the prosecution may now call its witness."

"Yes, your Honor," he replied.

"_This is bad," _Arnold thought, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"The prosecution calls Mr. Oskar Kokoschka to the witness stand," Payne called out.

Oskar stood from the audience area and was escorted by the bailiff to the witness' stand. The clerk then administered the oath to him before letting him sit on the stand. The last time Arnold recalled seeing Oskar he was balding. Now, he was wearing a toupee to cover his bald spot. He was wearing an awful bright magenta suit for this trial. He then waved a bit to Arnold, whom he recognized from his stay in the Sunset Arms boarding house.

Arnold looked at Oskar intently. _"This is it. I have to find weaknesses in his testimony, otherwise Gerald would be done for,"_ he thought.

"_I need to do this."_

"_For truth and justice."_

"_For Gerald..."_


	3. Chapter 2: The Dubious Witness

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!, its characters and settings, as well as Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, its concept and silly plot.**

**Chapter 2: The Dubious Witness**

"State your name and occupation for the court records, sir," Payne said to Oskar.

"My name is Oskar Kokoschka, and I sell newspapers and magazines subscriptions, heheh," he replied, ending with a typical annoying laughter he was known for.

"Mr. Kokoschka, you may begin your testimony," the judge said to him.

"Ahem," Oskar cleared his throat. "I was going door-to-door that time in my usual daily paper route, and selling magazine subscriptions as well, when I saw a man fleeing an apartment. I thought he must be in a hurry because he left the door half-open behind him. Thinking it strange, I got curious and looked inside the apartment. Then I saw her lying there... a woman... not moving... dead!" His voice quivered in horror.

"I got scared and found myself unable to go inside," he continued after regaining his composure. "I thought to call the police immediately. However, the phone in his apartment wasn't working. I went downstairs, and found a payphone. I remember the time exactly: it was 1:00 PM. The man who ran, I'm sure about it, is that guy sitting over there!"

He then pointed at Gerald who was sitting beside Arnold in the defendant's box. Gerald was startled, opened his mouth but no words came out. There was a collective gasp among the people in the courtroom. The judged nodded knowingly after hearing Oskar's testimony. Payne flashed a smug smile at Arnold, knowing his witness' testimony was bulletproof as Arnold bit his lip, clenching his fists in his pocket.

"_Gerald, why you didn't tell the truth?! I can't defend you with a testimony like that!" _Arnold thought, casting a worried look at Gerald.

"Incidentally, why wasn't the phone in the victim's apartment working?" the judge asked the prosecution.

"Your Honor, at the time of the murder, there was a blackout in the building," Payne replied promptly.

"Aren't phones supposed to work even in a blackout?" the judge asked back, giving him an incredulous look.

"Yes, your Honor..." he answered back. "However, some cordless phones do not function normally. They require constant power supply. The phone in Ms. Heyerdahl's apartment that Mr. Kokoschka tried to use was one of those."

"Your Honor, I have a record of the blackout, for your perusal," he said, handing over an envelope to the judge. The judge opened it and read the letter coming from the power company, informing customers about the anticipated blackout from noon to 6 PM during that day due to maintenance work on the power lines.

"The court accepts this letter as evidence. Let it be recorded in the court records," the judge said, placing the letter back in the envelope, and handed it to the court clerk.

"Now, Atty. Shortman," the judge said, turning to the defendant's box.

"Y-yes...er, yes, your Honor?" Arnold absent-mindedly replied.

"You may begin your cross-examination," the judge told him.

"C-cross examination?" Arnold repeated, his voice quite shaky.

"Alright, Arnold, this is it! The real deal," Olga said to Arnold. "This is the part you need to expose his lies, just like what you used to do in law school."

Arnold turned to Olga. "Lies? He doesn't seem to be lying."

"You believe that your client is innocent, right?"

Arnold nodded.

"Then that witness must have lied in his testimony," she went on. "Or is you client really...guilty?"

"No!" Arnold shot back. "Gerald would not do such a thing."

"You hold the key, Arnold. It's in the _evidence_. Compare the witness' testimony to the evidence at hand. There's bound to be a contradiction in there. Once you've found the contradicting evidence, present it and rub it on the witness' face!" Olga instructed Arnold.

"Yes, Boss. I know now what to do," Arnold nodded.

"Is the defense ready with the cross-examination?" the judge asked Arnold.

"Y-yes, your Honor," Arnold replied, then he frantically skimmed through the papers in front of him, looking for the contradicting evidence that would discredit's Oskar's testimony.

"_Dammit, where is it?! It's here somewhere!"_ Arnold thought as he went through pages and pages of documents, tossing some of them aside.

"Atty. Shortman, are you going to do a cross-examination or not?" the judge asked him, growing impatient. "If the defense has no more questions for the witness, then I would be forced to hand down the verdict."

"Y-yes, you Honor! Just give me a minute," Arnold replied, still rummaging through the documents.

"Rookies," Payne sneered with a smug smile.

"_Aha! Found it!" _Arnold pulled out a page from the stack of documents and held it.

"Mr. Kokoschka," Arnold addressed Oskar.

"Yes, Arnold?" he replied, still addressing him casually.

"Isn't a man leaving an apartment a common sight?" he asked him. "I find it odd you would take notice of him."

"Er, heheh," Oskar chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "I don't know, he just seemed strange to me. That's all. Like he was mad, and yet frightened at the same time. Just like..._a killer fleeing the scene of the crime!_"

Arnold banged his hands on the desk, "The defense requests that the witness refrain from conjecture!" he hollered.

"Of course," Payne replied to Arnold's motion. "What the witness means is that the man he saw looked suspicious."

The judge simply nodded, "Very well, the defense may continue the cross-examination."

Arnold nodded. "Mr. Kokoschka, you found the body at 1 PM, you sure?" he asked Oskar.

"Yes, it was 1 PM, for sure," he replied.

"Frankly, I find that hard to believe!" Arnold countered, holding up the document he dug out earlier from the stack of papers on his desk. "What I have here is the autopsy report that contradicts _your_ statement. The autopsy notes the time of death sometime after 4 PM."

Oskar's eyes widened upon hearing this piece of evidence presented by Arnold.

"There was nobody, er..._no 'body'_ to find at 1 PM!" he concluded, flashing a smug smile at his bad pun. "How do you explain this three-hour gap?"

Oskar was startled, and started fidgeting in his seat.

"Heheh...oh that! Oh, er..." he stammered.

"**OBJECTION!"**

Everybody turned to the prosecutor's box, where Payne was pointing his finger at Arnold.

"This is trivial! The witness merely forgot the time!" Payne said, sweating profusely.

The judge shook his head, "After his testimony and the evidence pointed out by the defense, I find it hard to believe as well. Objection overruled."

Payne sank back to his seat, his mouth half open in disbelief. Arnold sighed and smiled a bit, relieved that his timing in presenting the autopsy report had seemingly somehow helped his case.

"Mr. Kokoschka," the judged turned to Arnold. "Why were you so certain that you found the body at 1 PM?"

"I... er... well, I..." Oskar stammered, squirming on his seat, sweat forming on his forehead. "Gee, that's a really good question."

"Great job, Arnold!" Olga praised. "Way to put him on the spot! That's all you have to do: point out contradictions! Lies always beget more lies! See though one, and the whole story falls apart."

"Thanks, Boss, heheh," Arnold replied, rubbing the back of his head, not used to being praised by Olga.

"Wait!" Oskar exclaimed. "I remember now!"

"What is it, Mr. Kokoschka?" the judged asked.

"You see, when I found the body, I _heard_ the time," Oskar explained. "There was a voice saying the time... It was probably coming _from the television._"

Arnold gave him an incredulous look, but listened to him intently, eager to find holes in his testimony.

"Oh, but it was three hours off, wasn't it?" Oskar said, rubbing his beard. "I guess the victim must have been watching a video of a taped program! That's why I thought it was 1 PM! Terribly sorry about the misunderstanding, heheheh..."

"Hmmm... I see..." the judge nodded knowingly. "You heard a voice saying the time on a taped program. Atty. Shortman, do you have questions for the witness in light of this new testimony?"

"Arnold, you know what to do," Olga whispered to Arnold.

"I got this one, Boss," he replied, and then turned to the judge. "Yes, your Honor. We got few questions here."

"The prosecution has said there was a blackout at the building at the time of the discovery!" he pointed his finger to Oskar, who seemed to be frightened by Arnold. "And the letter from the power company submitted by Atty. Payne proves it!"

Oskar was startled, and squirmed restlessly on his seat, sweating profusely.

"You couldn't have heard a television... or a video!" Arnold pointed out.

"Gah!" Oskar cried out. "I... er... well... urk!"

"The defense has a point," the judged agreed with Arnold. "Do you have an explanation for this, Mr. Kokoschka?"

"No... I... I find it puzzling myself! Quite!" he replied, then paused, looking down, trying to rack his brains for an explanation.

"W-wait! I remember now!" Oscar exclaimed gleefully.

"Mr. Kokoschka, please remember you are under oath," the judge said sternly. "The court prefers hear an accurate testimony from the beginning. These constant corrections are harming your credibility, and I could hold you for perjury. That... and you seem rather distraught."

"I-I'm sorry, your Honor! Heheheh" he apologized, smiling awkwardly at the judge. "It... er, it must have been the shock of finding the body!"

"Very well, Mr. Kokoschka," the judge acknowledged. "You may begin your testimony once more."

"Actually, I didn't _hear_ the time... I _saw _it!" Oskar explained. "There was a table clock in the apartment, wasn't there? Yeah, the murder weapon! The killer used it to hit the victim! That must have been what I saw!"

"What? You saw the clock?" the judge said before nodding knowingly. "That explains it. The defense may continue with the cross-examination."

"Gladly, your Honor," Arnold replied in a snap, eager to take down Oskar's testimony.

"_You're making this too easy,_" Arnold thought, flashing a smug smile.

"Mr. Kokoschka, the murder weapon wasn't a clock!" he pointed his finger at Oskar. "Your Honor, the defense requests that the murder weapon be brought out and be presented to the court."

"Request granted," the judge acknowledged. "Bailiff, please bring out the murder weapon from the evidence depository."

The bailiff nodded and headed out of the courtroom. He returned with a small, rather heavy-looking bronze statue of naked man sitting, thinking and pondering on something deeply. It was a replica of Auguste Rodin's "The Thinker". The bailiff placed statue on a small table in the middle of the courtoom.

"The murder weapon wasn't a _clock_! It was this _statue_!" Arnold continued. "Now how is this supposed to be a _clock_!?" He pointed his finger at Oskar.

Oskar was shocked upon seeing the statue. He trembled and gritted his teeth.

"Y-you... with your 'objections' and your 'evidence'... Just who do you think you are?! You're_ just_ Arnold, the kid who used to collect the rent in the boarding house!" he cried out to him.

"Just answer the question, Mr. Kokoschka," Arnold said forcefully.

"Hey, I... I saw it there, okay?! That's a clock!" Oskar cried out.

"Your Honor... If I may...?" Payne butted in.

"Yes, Atty. Payne?" the judge asked.

"As the witness stated, this statue is _indeed_ a clock," he explained. "The neck is a switch. You just tilt it, and it says the time out loud."

Arnold glared at Payne incredulously, but kept his silence, keeping his lips pursed.

"As it doesn't look like a clock, I submitted it as a statue. My apologies," he continued.

"I see," the judge nodded. "So the murder weapon was a table clock after all. Well, Atty. Shortman? It appears that the witness' testimony was _correct_. This _is a clock_. Do you have any problems with this testimony now?"

Arnold was frozen at his place, staring at the judge in disbelief. The tables seemed to have turned on him.

"Arnold. Arnold?" Olga tapped his shoulder. Arnold snapped out of his daze.

"Y-yes, your Honor!" he replied absent-mindedly. He grumbled and clenched his fist. He totally lost his momentum that he gained from pointing out holes in Oskar's testimony. He took a deep breath and rubbed his temples to compose himself. There must be a hole in his testimony in light of the fact that the murder weapon is _indeed_ a clock. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to rack his brains, finding a weakness in the testimony.

Then, like a flash of lightning, an idea came to him. He snapped his finger at this "eureka!" moment. He then placed both of his hand at the desk and leaned towards the judge.

"Your Honor, there is a gaping hole in the witness' testimony!" Arnold said. "The only way he could have known the weapon was a clock is to _hold it_ _in his hand!_ Yet the witness testified that he _never_ entered the apartment. Clearly, a _contradiction_!_"_

"Hmm, indeed," the judge acknowledged, nodding.

Arnold then pointed his finger at Oskar. "The witness knew it was a clock, because he _went into the apartment!_ You're lying! You were inside of the apartment on the day of the murder!"

"Oh yeah!? _Prove it_! Prove I went in there!" Oskar yelled back, standing up, pointing his finger at Arnold.

"I can do better than that!" Arnold retorted. "I can prove you were the _one who killed her_!"

"Arnold!" Olga exclaimed, surprised by Arnold's show of boldness.

"You struck her with a clock, and with the shock of the blow triggered the clock's voice! That was the _voice you heard!_"

"**OBJECTION!"**

Payne was pointing his finger at Arnold. He was now gritting his teeth and sweating profusely.

"The defense is making wild, unfounded accusations, your Honor!"

"Objection sustained," the judged said. "Atty. Shortman, please refrain from such conjecture, albeit I personally find it a bit intriguing."

"Yes, your Honor," Arnold replied, unfazed by the objection. "My apologies for jumping on my conclusion right away. I will show to you how I arrived with that conclusion, and prove that the witness is not what he seemed to be."

"Very well, you may proceed, Atty. Shortman," the judge said.

Arnold made a deep sigh and looked at Gerald, who seemed to be more relieved yet agitated by the recent proceedings and development in his case.

"_The whole case is riding on this. I can't afford to mess up now. Gerald, I'll prove your innocence. Leave it to me, buddy."_


End file.
